From the Silhouette to the Shadows
by geezerinthecorner
Summary: This story explains what happened to Nicolette and Chad between DX1 and DX2 which caused them to join the Illuminati.
1. The Aftermath

The evening after the world ended, Chad Dumier found himself sitting alone on a street corner in Paris, a half drunken bottle of cheap beer clutched in one hand. Majestic-12, the international cabal he had dedicated the last eight years of his life to fighting, was defeated – but try though he might, he could find little joy in the victory. The leaders of majestic-12 had been slain, taking their plans with them to their graves. The worldwide communications hub they had used to monitor and control the flow of information across the entire world had been destroyed, but it had taken the world down with it.

Most of the governments in the world would not survive this, Chad knew already, and law enforcement and military forces were thrown into disarray. As if in illustration of this he heard a great crash as the fires now raging through the local government building down the street from where he sat claimed another floor of the ancient architectural masterpiece. Looters roamed the city with little or no opposition – by this point they included most of the population – burning and breaking as they went. They paid Chad little mind, a hunched figure crouched on the pavement, but government workers of any level as well as any who still dared wear the uniforms of MJ-12 or the police were beaten and killed. Many in the mob had got hold of guns one way or another, and they swarmed the streets while the forces of authority were scattered and confused. It was a cleansing of the rot which had taken over for so long, though, and perhaps necessary.

Majestic-12 had been destroyed, the almost sole aim of his life for so long, yet he could not find it in him to celebrate. He had always known that the cost of such an important victory would be high, but now for the first time he wondered if he would have been willing to pay it. Not that it had been him who had to make that decision in the end. Perhaps he should be thankful for that. Chad's knowledge of the conspiracy outside France was, in truth, hazy and it had never occurred to him that MJ-12 was so entrenched that their defeat could conceivably do the damage it had, with the scenes in Paris doubtless being played out thousands of times in thousands of cities across the globe.

Chad glanced down at the bottle in his hand, which was now empty. He wasn't truly drunk, although the alcohol was doubtless contributing to his feelings of confusion and vague despair. Now he thought of it, in fact, being truly drunk sounded like a very tempting thought. There was a supermarket just around the block, and Chad picked himself up from the street and went to look for any alcohol that had been missed when the shop was looted earlier in the day.

Nicolette DuClare perched on the edge of her bed, hunched over with her arms around herself to ward off the cold yet for some reason unwilling to seek the shelter of the covers on the bed. She stared numbly at the four walls of her room, much as she had years before. At the time, though, she had always been seething with rage against her mother after some argument or other – she could barely remember, now, what they had argued about and why it had seemed so pressing at the time. Now, Nicolette's thoughts of her mother dwelled on memories from before all that, before their shared home had become a warzone with every conversation a battle.

A mother is a hard thing to lose, and Nicloette had never really known her father. What hurt most, though, was the fact that they had parted on such bad terms with no chance to make amends. Her mother's death seemed to put their relationship into perspective, and the angry confrontations of the last year or two before Nicolette had left for good seemed trivial indeed.

When she had first heard the news of her mother's death Nicolette had surprised herself with her lack of feeling. Only now, coming back to her old home, did she truly feel the weight of her loss. She suspected that it had just not been quite real at the time and with more immediate matters to occupy her mind she had simply pushed the truth away rather than deal with it. Now, detached from other immediate concerns in her life and in the house of her childhood, the sense of loss overwhelmed her. Finally, Nicolette curled up on her bed and cried for her dead mother.


	2. A Visit from the Shadows Part 1

Nicolette awoke in her old bed next morning, and began to review recent events in her mind. The spectre of her dead mother loomed before her once again, and Nicolette decided that she needed to do something in order to ward it off. She recalled the computer system she and JC Denton had discovered in the basement of the house – a tool such as that could be of massive value to Silhouette's efforts.

Nicolette padded through the familiar corridors and down the stairs, into the kitchen. She went down into the gloom of the wine cellar and, after carefully locking the door behind her, proceeded to the ostentatious candleholder and pressed it into the wall. There was a great grinding as the secret door opened, then shut behind her as she stepped through into her mother's secret place of work. Nicolette walked through the grimy dungeon, wondering as she did at how people of such power ended up working so clandestinely, in such frankly unpleasant surroundings.

When she reached the room in which the computer was housed Nicolette quickly sat down at the worn chair. She was about to input the command for the computer to start up when she heard a noise back where she had come from. Nicolette froze for a moment then began to relax, dismissing it, when she heard the sound of the secret door from the wine cellar opening with much grating and grinding. She quickly stood up and moved over to the side of the room, disappearing into the shadows with practised ease.

A figure entered the room a few moments later and looked round, then began to move around the other side from where Nicolette was hidden. She stepped up behind him stealthily, but she must have made some sound, as he turned around suddenly. Her eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in hatred.

"You!"

"Ah, my daughter-" Morgan Everett got no further as Nicolette lashed out, hitting him in the chest with her right hand and then following up with a left to the face – powerful, accurate blows. Everrett found himself on the hard stone floor, gasping for breath and seeing stars. By the time he had recovered his vision Nicolette was standing over him with s pistol she had produced from somewhere on her person pointed directly at him. He had been aware of her hostility to the Illuminati in general and himself in particular, but the open hatred in her face as she looked at him now still caught him off guard. Seeing how tense she was, Everett realised that there was a serious danger that she might just kill him here and now. Possibly not the best time to force a confrontation.

"Err... I surrender?" He put his arms out weakly.

"What are you doing here?" Nicolette spoke slowly and clearly, her narrowed eyes not moving from his form for a second.

"Well in fact, dear girl" – Nicolette moved as if she was going to hit him again but restrained herself, for which Everett was profoundly grateful – "I was looking for you. There have been a few rather major changes in the world just recently, and I thought you might be little out of touch. As a matter of fact, I came here to be of help to you."

"I need none of your 'help'." Nicolette's hostile tone had not changed at all. Everett's patronising, mocking tone suddenly disappeared to be replaced by his customary forceful confidence.

"Yes you do, so put that gun away and _listen_ to me. Majestic-12 have been decapitated, destroyed – that stupid boy Denton saw to that."

"They... wha-" Morgan Everett continued to talk right over Nicolette's confused question.

"But they are not all that has been destroyed. The Aquinas router was blown up. Do you have any IDEA what that means, Nicolette? Governments will tumble; nations cease to exist as we know them. Anarchy, chaos and destruction will be let lose on a scale not seen in this century. Beth's computer, here, is of no value now. There is a car waiting outside. Come with me to Paris, I wish to speak to your friend Chad."

"You're giving me orders already? Who the HELL do you think you-"

"Nicolette, you don't understand how big this is. It is not safe out here, all order is gone, all protection. The future of this world is in flux, things must be done if it is ever to recover. Just come with me for now."

And somehow, numbed and shocked by the enormity of what he was telling her and bowled over by Everett's awesome presence and charisma, Nicolette found herself putting her gun away and meekly following Everett into the back of his sleek armoured limousine.


	3. A Visit from the Shadows Part 2

After sleeping in the gutter for one night Chad found himself heading back underground to his old hideout in the catacombs. He was surprised to find that a number of colleagues were already there - surely they did not need to hide any more? Silhouette itself was no longer necessary, its aims achieved. Right?

It wasn't safe in the streets, though, so of course it was still wise to hide. There was still plenty of danger to hide from. And this level of anarchy and chaos had never been a part of his aims. A tap on his shoulder roused Chad from his thoughts and he looked up to see his old friend Alain standing over him, a concerned look on his face.

"Nicolette's coming. She's got company."

"Who?"

"No idea. Two black guys; well-dressed."

"Is she being forced?"

"Not as far as we could tell."

"Well, let's go see them then."

Old habits die hard. They were still watching for intruders. Maybe it would just take time, but Chad did not feel particularly safe at the moment. When Nicolette, Morgan Everett and his associate Toby Atanwe entered the WW2 bunker that served Silhouette as a base they were met openly by Chad standing alone, but in the plentiful shadows around the dimly lit edges of the concrete room various members of Silhouette were faintly visible with an assortment of weapons readied. Nicolette stepped forward and spoke in an oddly subdued tone.

"Chad, this is Morgan Everett and Toby Atanwe. They... have some things to tell you." Chad looked Everett and Atanwe over again.

"Well then. Welcome to my humble home. Please do come inside," Chad's suspicion was clearly evident; he made no effort to hide it. Members of silhouette moved around the Illuminati as they went into the back, weapons no longer held openly but the threat still very much in evidence. The two Illuminati moved with total confidence, appearing totally unconcerned and at ease with their rather dank surroundings. As the others moved around Chad moved to Nicolette and took her aside.

"So who are these guys?"

"Illuminati. They want something of you... of all of us. What, I don't know." Nicolette still seemed subdued. She turned to Chad with a sudden intensity. "Everett said... the Aquinas router, destroyed. Is it true?" Chad nodded, not bothering to speak. Nicolette sagged, but the tension seemed to leave her. Chad looked at her again.

"Nicolette, are you... all right?"

Nicolette looked up at him, her face set and strangely angry. "Let's go see what the bastards want." She walked toward the back of the bunker, where the others were with the two Illuminati. Chad was left to stare in her wake, baffled by her sudden anger. Finally he shrugged, dismissing the matter, and went to see what the visit was about.


	4. A Chain of Events

Morgan Everett spoke to them all.

"As you are all aware, the organisation Majestic-12 has now been effectively destroyed, as has the Aquinas router. What I am about to relate to you is the chain of events which led up to both of these things. A man named JC Denton came through Paris recently, looking for Nicolette and through her, me. I made contact with him and decided to make use of his... unique abilities in recovering a large amount of gold - the details are unimportant. What matters is that he succeeded, and I had my companion here bring him to my home for a personal meeting.

Associates of Mr Denton had sent me some data in the Grey Death virus, which MJ-12 had designed and manufactured, which I believe they found in Hong Kong. As I had done much of the preliminary work on the virus – though we were planning to use it on augmentations rather than bioweapons – I was quickly able to design vaccine, but only a universal constructor could manufacture it in any useful quantities. I pointed Mr Denton in the direction of Gary Savage, a leading nanotech researcher whose team had nearly completed work on a universal constructor.

JC Denton met with Gary Savage and Denton was able to aid Savage by retrieving certain data needed to complete the universal constructor. He was also forced to rescue Savage's daughter after Majestic-12 had her kidnapped - again, the details are unimportant. Denton also - on my advice, alas - linked up an AI named Daedalus, an old surveillance tool which, ironically, classified MJ-12 as a terrorist group, to the US military networks in order that it might help us destroy MJ-12's intelligence apparatus. Bob Page – the leader of Majestic-12, if you did not know already – had anticipated this move, and another AI of revised design going by the name of Icarus merged with Daedalus to form an awesome supercomputer named Helios, apparently under Page's control – though this was not perhaps entirely the case, as I shall mention shortly.

Page did not plan to allow a universal constructor to operate against him, and opted for a no-nonsense solution: Majestic-12 paramilitary forces seize a missile silo and prepared to launch a missile and Vandenberg Air Force Base, where Savage was working. Denton was able to infiltrate the silo quickly enough to change the target of the missile to Area-51, where both Bob Page and the Aquinas router were. Both were safely tucked away underground, however, so only the surface structures were destroyed. It should be noting that I was aiding and advising JC Denton all this time. What I next advised him to do I will doubtless regret forever: I asked that he go to Area-51 while their defences were weakened and disorganised by the missile attack. An opportunity to end the war then and there, though - how could I allow that to slip away?

In any case, there can be no doubt about Denton's supreme competence and his infiltration was once again successful. What his objectives were, however, became confused. Another of his allies, a criminal scientist working with the Hong Kong triads named Tracer Tong, asked him to destroy the whole facility in order to remove the Aquinas router. Tong believed that the centralisation of technology and power meant that someone would always try to force their will on humanity with it, and that this must always be undesirable.

The real surprise, though, was the third mind that made contact with JC Denton: the AI, Helios. Helios had great power through the use of the Aquinas router, and wished to gain knowledge from Denton's mind and augmentations in order to form a composite being of the two, an absolute dictator. This showed the flaw in Page's apparent masterstroke in defeating Daedalus to form a more powerful AI under his own command: he could not control such a powerful entity. A little late, as far as I was concerned, however.

I, on the other hand, wanted something far less dramatic than either of the others: I simply wished Denton to kill Bob Page. With him gone MJ-2 could never recover from the other blows struck against them already. Their grip could be relaxed in places like here in Paris, their technology turned to constructive use, without any of the chaos we are seeing now.

Whatever his reasons, Denton obviously disagreed with me. In fact, he both merged with Helios and blew up the facility. Helios has little power without the Aquinas protocol, but it has a physical host now - doubtless a mind as powerful as the AI crushed Denton's identity quickly enough. Denton should be considered dead though the body that was once his now lives, so at least he will never have to see the results of his actions.

The world is in ruins. No doubt you have guessed that the chaos you have seen here in Paris was being repeated elsewhere in the world - I can confirm this. Tracer Tong spoke of bringing about a new Dark Age - this is to be desired? We must rebuild this world before madmen such as he can shape it according to their whims, or people will pay the price for centuries to come.

Join with me to help rebuild this world; that is what I ask of you as individuals and as an organisation. The cruel reign of Majestic-2 has been ended, but that is nothing unless we put something better in their place."


	5. A Faustian Bargain?

Dumier rose to his feet, obviously powerfully affected by the speech – as was just about everyone else in the room, save for Nicolette.

"We must know more than that if we are to believe that you are any different from them, any better. We must know who you are, who you represent."

Stupid man, Nicolette thought savagely. He thought he was being cautious, careful, but he was already dancing to Everett's tune. The same old dance as ever, starting up again while she sat and watched, powerless to do anything about it. Although the room was full of people she considered friends, Nicolette suddenly felt very alone.

Everett replied to Chad. "That is not something I can give lightly. Secrecy is our only hope of survival." Making him beg, thought Nicolette. Make Dumier argue and it would seem like a major concession if Everett even deigned to tell them what they were getting into. As if he'd tell the whole truth anyway. Scum.

Dumier was replying, ever so reasonably. "Come now, we can hardly agree to join something if we don't know who you are. We understand the risks you are taking, but there is no-one here who cannot be trusted absolutely."

"Trusted absolutely…" Morgan Everett gave a faint laugh, the first hint of emotion he had given since entering Silhouette's lair. "That's an idea I've not heard of in a long time. Very well…" Everett's eyes swept the sea of intent faces around him. He finally spoke again, with great seriousness and a sense of ceremony. "I will trust all of you. Listen, then, to the story of the Illuminati." Nicolette looked on in abject disgust. Everyone appeared positively gratified to be trusted by this charismatic, mysterious man. Why not just sign their immortal souls over right now?

Everett was talking again, talking of history and ideas and leading them all wherever he chose, a pied piper for grown men and women. He talked of the enlightenment and the psychological need for God of the human condition and of dictatorship and democracy and the failings of both. Caught in his effortless stream of words to move from the failings of populism and short-termism within democratic institutions to a mandate for an unelected, unknown and unaccountable group controlling governments across the globe seemed a small step indeed.

Moving towards the current situation and the brief reign of MJ-12, Everett was careful to paint himself as the victim of the heartless Bob Page – poor man, betrayed by his trusted student to whom he had given so much – and careful to point out the differences between the methods of the Illuminati and Majestic-12. Blind them with the details, thought Nicolette. Dealing with an organisation that had as much influence as MJ-12, the brutality they employed was but the tip of the iceberg in terms of the harm they caused – and the rest they shared entirely with the Illuminati. The Illuminati were much the same, just with a better public relations strategy.

I would just like to point out that the opinions shown here are not my own – I always go for the Illuminati ending in both DX1 and DX2


	6. A New Visitor

A man had come to Paris - a man of note. Silhouette were the first to know, of course, as they were with most things in Paris these days. Though the name 'Silhouette' was not one often heard - they were Illuminati now. Order had been restored to the streets - they had been part of that, as well as some other old associates Everett had whistled up, although in truth people were giving up on violence and going home anyway - they just needed leadership. That the Illuminati were more than willing to provide, though of course not openly.

The man's name was Tracer Tong, and he was an associate of JC Denton. JC Denton was a name often heard among those who had been Silhouette - a name spoken in anger and hatred, a name to blame for the chaos. The name of an ally betrayed; for hatred is always easier than admitting guilt. Tracer Tong had arrived in an unknown helicopter, which had departed without him, and made his way into the city on foot, apparently alone. The Illuminati knew all this because the Mayor of Paris was theirs. He did not consider himself so, of course; the man was both a patriot and a decent man, one of courage and vision who had been imprisoned when the city was under martial law. But in times like these access to cameras was a small price to pay to the people whose technicians had rigged up many of the old systems into a working network of cameras with even a couple of working bots, especially when this security network which was all that allowed him and his new gendarmes to keep any semblance of order.

Tracer Tong came to a sewer access in the middle of a deserted street and opened it, climbing down into the tunnels. This caused some consternation among those Illuminati watching his progress, for the access should have been sealed beyond anyone's ability to open without heavy equipment. The sewers were the Illuminati's strength, their secret and jealously guarded highway, yet in them they were blind - though soon they would have cameras and other security even there. For now, however, Tracer Tong walked unimpeded through the claustrophobic underworld. Warnings were circulated, weapons were readied and a search party prepared to scour the sewers - when he knocked on their door. Tracer Tong had come directly to the place that was both the heart and nerve centre of the rulers of Paris, the original econd world war bunker they had hidden in when they fought the old rulers in the night.

* * *

Men and women grabbed weapons and took up firing positions around the exit. Nicolette wondered if that was really necessary, but little that happened these days made sense to her. She wondered why she stayed, but she could not face her old house again - if it too had not been looted - so she had nowhere else to go and no other friends. So she had wandered the bleak concrete halls like a ghost of the past while all around her the living were seized by new energy and new purpose.

The door of the bunker opened with a dull grinding of aged motors, and a lone man stepped through to meet the accusing gun barrels pointed at him various pieces of cover. He was short; obviously of asian descent and although hos face was pocked with the marks of the grey death he moved smoothly and easily. His clothing was, Nicolette could not help but feel, painfully nondescript.

"I am Tracer Tong. I wish to make an offer to you all, on behalf of JC Denton"Chad stepped from the shadows which had concealed him.

"Then let's talk. I'm sure we have a very great deal to discuss."


	7. A Rejected Offer

Tong spoke to Dumier at a huge slab of concrete that served the Illuminati as a table as Tong unveiled his proposal. The others hovered all around them, a half-visible audience unwilling to step out fom the shadows. JC Denton had combined with the mighty Helios AI and this new, great, entity had devised a plan to perfect civilisation. The plan was chilling in its simplicity at heart: humans are imperfect beings, whose greatest desires conflict and whose nature leads them inevitably to conflict. In order to remedy the problems of man externally, you must remedy them internally - remake humanity.

Tong spoke with both the clear logic and rhetorical flourish of rehearsed speech and the underlying passion of a true fanatic, while Chad sat and listened, grunting in the affirmative at appropriate moments. His expression appeared blank, but Nicolette - in spite of all the recent changes - knew him better than most. She could see the hard lines around his eyes, the choking, blinding rage evident in his movements. Tong finished his speech and Dumier began to ask questions about what happened at Area 51 - seemingly innocuous at first, but quickly growing more and more pointed.

"Did you tell JC Denton to destroy Area 51?" Chad asked finally in a flat, hostile, tone. Tong looked at him for a long moment.

"Yes." Dumier's rage began to boil to the surface.

"Then you are a murderer on an awesome scale." Tracer Tong's manner remained dispassionate but his response was quick and defensive.

"It saved lives in the long run. MJ-12 is broken and the suffering they would cause, the enslavement, will never happen now."

"Death by anarchy and the destruction of technology is somehow better? You and that... that machine will destroy the very concept of humanity! SEIZE HIM!" Chad suddenly roared to the shadows around. Several forms rushed forward to do just that before Tong could react - Chad had obviously planned this in advance - but they were not even remotely fast enough. Tong swiftly stood and struck at his leading assailant with inhuman force, shattering bone and hurling him back into his fellows, sending them all sprawling to the floor. There was movement on all sides now, and Chad was drawing a pistol from his belt, but Tong moved and suddenly noxious gas exploded out in all directions. The shadows were coughing and crawling to escape it, while Tong - apparently unaffected - whirled and sprinted for the exit.

He was intercepted before he could reach it, however, by one of the Illuminati - a tall man in an ancient suit who jumped out and levelled a combat shotgun at Tong, at point-blank range. Time froze for a moment for both men, then Tong shouldered past and made for the door as his assailant crumpled slowly to the floor. The gun fell unnoticed from the man's hand as he clutched at his stomach where the was a small tear in his suit and a couple of drops of blood.

The cameras covering Paris never saw Tracer Tong leave the city, although scans and full search parties ascertained that he had left the sewers.


	8. A Death too Far

The man Tong had struck in his escape from the Illuminati's bunker died within minutes. The Triad leader had used some sort of device which launched a number of tiny needles which penetrated clothing and skin then proceeded to inject toxins which systematically destroyed his central nervous system - 'The wonders of modern technology', as Toby Atanwe said once he had completed a post-mortem examination. The man had been a part of Silhouette for as long as anyone could remember, a skilled organiser with a knack for keeping up morale and keeping everyone from each other's throats when they were all stuck together in one cramped hideout or another. They dumped his body in a mass grave for victims of the riots, along with many of MJ-12's soldiers. He probably would've appreciated the irony, as well as the unavoidable practicality.

Chad swore and paced, demanding searches of the city and anywhere else Tong might hide and threatening lengthy and unpleasant torments when he was found, though it was clear to all by this point that he had got clean away. Everett arrived to advise and to calm Chad down, bringing reports of Tong and Denton setting up facilities for research in order to carry out their grand scheme. He and Chad, together with Atanwe and other unknown faces, began discussions as to how to find and 'neutralise' any such facilities and their architects, what resources they could call on and how exactly they would carry out their little war.

* * *

Nicolette could watch the insane plotting no more. Death had come to their very doorstep yet all they wished to do was visit it upon others, in some insane battle between lunatics and megalomaniacs on both sides. The consequences were too real now that she had seen a friend die, but Chad had buried his pain in revenge and could not see how pointless it was. She packed up her few belongings and simply walked out of the door when all were asleep - she wasn't sure whether it was night or not, as she had not seen the sky in some months - telling no-one she was going and with no real idea where she was going herself. From a corner of the room, Chad watched her go, a scatter of tears - quickly stifled - escaping his eyes. When Nicolette had left the bunker and was making her slow way through the once-familiar sewers, however, another figure blocked her path with painful inevitability. He was waiting for her.

Everett looked his daughter over with faint horror. He had been much distracted of late with the dozens of elaborate schemes he had in motion, desperately trying to rebuild some semblance of order before all opportunities were lost for good, and had not realised just how far Nicolette had deteriorated. She was pale - an inevitable result of life in the sewers - and worryingly gaunt, but beyond that she seemed to have lost all interest in life. Her shoulders were habitually drooped and her eyes stared at the floor, and she demonstrated none of the fire she had shown before. She made no effort to strike at him or draw the gun she probably still carried, but instead simply spoke in a voice of utter resignation:

"Why can't you just leave me be? Even here, now... must you continue to torment me?" Everett quickly adopted a conciliatory tone in response.

"Please, Nicolette. I may not always have always done well, but I only wanted to help yo-"

"Help? You mock me even now, you vicious bastard. You have taken all I had from me. All." Nicolette cut across him with sudden force."My mother never had timefor me, she was always too busy conspiring with you and those others. I spent years working on hurting her, but it was never really her I wanted to hurt. It was you, who took her from me. And now, when I had found a cause and real friends, at last, you arrive again and take it all. You and your wars among madmen, you've made puppets of them all, even Ch..." Her voice tailed off abruptly but she still glared at Everett, her fists balled tightly at her sides. He let a moment pass, then gave a faint sigh.

"He watched you leave, you know. Dumier. He hasn't been getting much sleep." Nicolette responded quickly, still angry.

"That's because you've driven him to it with your endless lies and half-truths and plots. You can use him twenty-four hours a day now, just like you use everyone around you." Everett's face twisted for a moment with what might have been real pain, before his customary mask drove all expression from his features.

"I never meant... harm. Certainly never to you. I was trying help everyone, I always have been. Then when Page betrayed us - betrayed me - it was too dangerous. I couldn't draw attention to you. The things he could do... I haven't told you because it doesn't matter now, but Page had plans beyond simple dictatorship. He was going to transcend humanity, become like a spirit made of computer programming and nanotechnology - and then there could be no more opposing him, no way of killing him or even hindering him. I couldn't allow it for anything, coldn't allow it even for... for my daughter..." Nicolette closed her eyes, all anger spent in the face of Everett's pleas.

"Damn you. Damn you if you lie and... damn you if you do not" Everett took a step toward her and caught her eyes with his own.

"I know what you're running from. You're running from me, because you cannot trust me, cannot join me. I've never... earned your trust, and I've no claim on you as a father - I was always too busy with something else. All I can do is ask you to give me a chance now to earn that trust, to earn some sort of forgiveness. Please, I..." Morgan Everett was not a man who often found himself lost for words, but he could force nothing more through the tightness in his throat. Nicolette fell into him, let him wrap her clumsily about with his arms. Had she not she would likely have simply collapsed to the floor, but instead she finally allowed herself to let go of everything she had been trying to hold inside her and weep, safe in her father's embrace.


End file.
